


Something of a Miracle

by Heavyheadedgal



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, F/M, First Time, Fluff and Humor, PWP, Post Season 3, Reunion, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-26
Updated: 2017-05-26
Packaged: 2018-11-05 05:38:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11007105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heavyheadedgal/pseuds/Heavyheadedgal
Summary: Written for the prompt: Jack has planned the most romantic of reunions (in his head) a million times but will the reality exceed his expectations or disappoint?





	Something of a Miracle

**Author's Note:**

> Let's face it, the first time with someone you're crazy about is usually pretty nerve-wracking...! I couldn't resist tormenting Jack just a little bit more, it's so much fun to do.

 

_To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle -- Henry Miller._

Jack had spent weeks mentally rehearsing how he would make love to Phryne. He had developed several scenarios, for different moods and contexts. Sometimes he imagined an evening of dining and dancing leading to a passionate tryst in her boudoir. Sometimes he pictured sweeping her into a romantic kiss on the Southampton docks, followed by a swift tumble into his hotel bed. All of them culminated in a deeply intimate climax, looking into her eyes and confessing his love as she cried out with ecstasy.

None of them involved luggage gone missing, a mad dash through the rain, and a disapproving taxi driver who’d kicked them out when their kisses became too heated, insisting that he drove a decent cab and didn’t take fares from ladies of the night. Jack had been outraged, but Phryne thought it was hilarious. The train ride into London had been chaste enough – Phryne had insisted he rest, though Jack struggled to focus as he listened to her English adventures (only two murders in four months, as it happened).

There had been dinner, at least, in a local restaurant where Phryne was (of course) close friends with the proprietor. She had proceeded to eat in the most lascivious manner imaginable, her stockinged foot insinuating its way up his leg, and Jack had drunk a bit more wine than he’d meant to. As a result he was feeling a touch light-headed, whether from the adrenaline rush of their reunion, Phryne’s innuendo, or the alcohol, he couldn’t say.

They’d had to restrain themselves as they entered the Savoy lobby. Their sober expressions threatened to crack as they passed the concierge and stood chastely side by side, behind the lift operator. Jack’s luggage was, presumably, somewhere on a train between Southampton and Reading. He had his wallet, his passport, and the clothes on his back, which were dripping with February drizzle. The English winter was not having a dampening effect on their ardour, thankfully.

Once the elevator doors shut and the lift began to descend, Phryne grabbed Jack’s tie and pulled him towards her. They shuffled towards her door as they kissed, in a kind of sensual parody of their waltz months before. Kissing Phryne was proving to be addictive; his senses narrowed to the point where their lips met. He could happily spend all night just kissing her. He had no intention of _only_ kissing her tonight.

Gloves and coats were tossed aside carelessly as Phryne let them into her luxurious suite of rooms; his hat fell somewhere behind him, unnoticed. She put her hands up to his neck and leaned in to kiss him more deeply. At the touch of her fingers he gasped and flinched away. Phryne looked at him, nonplussed.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Your hands are cold.”

She smiled wryly and took his hands in her own. “So are yours.” She slipped her arms under his jacket, wrapping them around his waist. “I guess we’ll have to find a way to warm up,” she purred, pressing her body full against his.

He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her, softly. It was a gentle kiss, soft and tender. If they were going to do this, here, now, he intended to start it as he meant to go on. Phryne pressed her mouth firmly against his, then opened her lips, asking for more. He deepened the kiss, savouring the taste of her, months of pent-up anticipation making him breathless.

Phryne slid her hands up his back and around his shoulders, pushing his suit jacket off. He broke the kiss to shrug out of it. Smiling, Phryne took his hand and led him into the bedroom.

She made short work of his tie, and started on the buttons of his waistcoat. “Why must men wear so many layers?” she grumbled as she wrestled him out it. Jack pulled her closer, tasting the delicate skin behind her ear and caressing her ass with both hands. The waistcoat tossed, she ran her hands up under his braces, pinching his nipples through his shirt as she went. He made an inarticulate exclamation and she laughed wickedly. Shoving his braces off his shoulders, she pulled open his collar and sucked on his neck, their hips pressing together obscenely. Jack laughed as he thought of all the occasions he’d tried to hide her effect on his body, now obvious to them both. He stepped back, intending to remove her blouse, when Phryne cried, “Ow!”

“What—Phryne—did I—“ Jack stammered. Excitement gave way to nerves. Was he moving too quickly? Did she not enjoy how he touched her?

She brought her hands up to her face. “My earring.” Her voice was muffled slightly, her mouth against his skin. “It’s caught on your shirt.”

“Oh! Sorry,” he laughed nervously, as she disentangled herself.

“I think I’ll just take these off,” she said, stepping past him and placing her earrings, and necklace, on the bedside table.

“Right.” He stood awkwardly, hands at his sides, their momentum interrupted.

Closing her jewellery box, Phryne turned her back on him. “Perhaps you could help me with this?” She bent her head forward, and gestured to where her blouse was fastened with a pearl button at the back of the neck.

Jack obliged her, placing his lips on the skin he exposed, touching her lightly with his tongue. Phryne shivered. He slowly pulled up the hem of her blouse, his hands skimming her stomach and breasts, feeling her nipples tighten as he lifted the silk over her head. It fluttered to the floor and she turned, taking his face in her hands and kissing him hard, her tongue deep inside his mouth. Her hands were all over him, grabbing his ass, cupping him through his trousers, pulling his shirt up and nimbly undoing the buttons. She yanked up his vest, and he reached to pull it over his head, only to find his arms stopping short. “Mmf --Phryne – wait!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?” Phryne panted, concerned.

“I forgot my cufflinks,” Jack muttered, feeling foolish. His shirtsleeves were twisted around his forearms, shirt drooping down his back as he fumbled with them. His large hands struggled with the small hinges. “I don’t normally have a problem with these...”

“Oh dear,” Phryne laughed. “Here, let me.”

“I promise I’m not usually this clumsy.”

She undid his cuffs, kissing each uncovered wrist as she did so. His shirt pooled at his feet. Their pace slowed, as he pulled off his vest, and she slipped out her of skirt, their hands and mouths exploring, leaving lingering touches in places where they had only ever looked before. He started to move toward the bed when pulled back.

“Wait a moment, Jack.”

His heart pounded suddenly with apprehension. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing – I just need to take care of family planning.” She quirked an eyebrow and smirked.

“...Oh.” Comprehension hit him like a face full of cold water. He closed his eyes, resisted the habit to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I did think to bring ---precautions, but they’re in my luggage...“ he sighed. He had a supply of condoms in his suitcase. In the thrill of the moment he had completely forgotten about this crucial detail. It was an adjustment, trying to avoid conception after years of pursuing it, but that was no excuse. He wanted to kick himself.

“Nevermind,” she smiled encouragingly; then her face clouded, misreading his expression. “Unless, of course, there are other reasons we need...”

“No!” Jack practically yelped. Then he swallowed. “No. Nothing like that.”

“Excellent. Then I’ll just be a moment.” She walked towards the ensuite bathroom, then paused in the doorway, and said, “Jack? Don’t forget your shoes.”

“Of course,” he agreed, feeling like a pillock. She closed the bathroom door and he sat on the edge of the bed, unlacing his shoes.

Shoes and socks removed, Jack exhaled in a loud rush. The situation came crashing down on him like a sandbag at the theatre. He was sitting on the bed, shirtless, barefoot, with a tremendous hard-on, while Phryne employed illicit contraception so he wouldn’t get her pregnant. He scrubbed his face with his hands and grimaced as he felt the days’ stubble on his face. He needed a shave. He was scruffy from travel and a little worse for wine. This is not how it was supposed to go. He tried to regain his composure, breathing deeply. _Steady on, Robinson_.

The bathroom door opened and Phryne walked over to stand in front of him. Her expression was serious, unreadable, as he sat and looked up at her. It occurred to him that perhaps she felt some trepidation as well. He had travelled thousands of miles, but she had waited months for him. He put his hands on her hips and drew her forward, pressing his mouth against her stomach, kissing her through the silk of her camisole, and then lifting it to kiss her skin.

Things progressed swiftly then – he laid her on the bed, divesting her of her lingerie with smooth strokes that made her gasp and hum in pleasure. Dropping her panties to the floor, he removed his trousers and stood naked before her, watching her look at him for a moment, her hand playing between her legs. Then he kneeled on the floor, parting her knees and pressing soft kisses to her thighs.

He worked his way slowly toward her vulva, Phryne panting and squirming in response. He sucked a love-bite on her thigh and Phryne began to giggle. The giggles increased as her hands twisted in the bed sheets. He flicked his tongue at the crease of her thigh and groin, and she whooped out a laugh, her hips bucking suddenly and bashing him squarely on the nose. “OW!” Jack sat back, hand to his face. It hurt like hell.

“Oh, Jack!” Phryne was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. “Darling, I’m so sorry!” She sat up slightly, leaning on one elbow, her expression amused but sheepish. She bit her lip. “I think I’m rather too worked up for that just yet. Come here,” she said, reaching out and beckoning him to her.

His pain was immediately forgotten at the sight of a naked Phryne holding her arms out to him. He crawled onto the bed, hovering over her cautiously. “There aren’t any hidden weapons concealed on your person, Miss Fisher?” he asked with mock sternness. “I’ve been injured once already.”

“You’re welcome to search me, Inspector,” she grinned, and kissed him on the nose contritely.

His mouth traced her clavicles as he lowered himself down. At the touch of their naked bodies pressed together, they both moaned desperately, then dissolved into laughter at the sound. Jack put his face against Phryne’s neck and sighed at the smell of Jicky, and her hair.

“Oh god,” Phryne groaned. “Why did we wait so long to do this?” She stroked her left hand down his back and over his buttocks, her right hand tangled into his hair.

_Because I’m an idiot._ “I have no idea,” Jack replied, investigating her ear with his tongue. “It just never seemed...appropriate.”

“Oh, heavens, I should hope not,” Phryne laughed. She ground her pelvis against his hip. “When have I ever behaved appropriately with you?”

“Good point,” he agreed. “Only it seemed...I never knew where I stood in your affections.”

“For heaven’s sake, Jack, I could hardly have been more encouraging.” Phryne’s tone was slightly exasperated, and she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t mean just physically, Miss Fisher.” He paused in his attentions to her neck and looked at her, willing her to understand.

“Well you were hardly forthcoming in your intentions, Jack. I didn’t know want you wanted.” They had both stopped moving, though their legs were still entwined.

“Are you saying I should have invited you to the Fireman and Policeman’s Ball?”

“Well, it’s a start.”

“Best keep the third Saturday in September free, then.”

“I’ll make a note in my diary,” she said dryly.

Jack suddenly realized he was naked, in bed, and arguing with Phryne.

He rested his forehead on her shoulder. “Miss Fisher, can we _please_ focus on the task at hand?”

“Perhaps I’d be less easily distracted if the task were _in_ hand, Jack.” She grabbed his wrist and placed his hand on her vulva.  “And stop calling me Miss Fisher.”

At the touch of her wetness, Jack finally gave up trying to enact his fantasies. He revelled in the slick heat of her, lavished attention on her breasts with his mouth. He focused all of his attention on her responses, determined to bring her off as many times as he could.

“Jack—Jack—wait!”

She pushed him off, and before he could ask she was straddling him. He gasped as she took his cock in hand and began stroking.

“Slow down, Phryne—yes, like that—just like that---FUCK!” He shouted as she lowered herself onto him. She swivelled her hips and Jack whimpered, “Fucking hell.” Phryne groaned.

In some dim corner of his mind still capable of rational thought, Jack registered that Phryne liked it when he cursed. She liked it a lot. Years in the army and police force had earned him an extensive vocabulary of foul language, though he rarely used it. _So much for romance_ , he thought, then put his mouth to her neck and murmured every filthy word he knew. She was sweating and scratching at his back and looked absolutely glorious. Phryne clenched her teeth and grunted an animal-like moan as she came. It was the dirtiest sound he’d ever heard in his life and it nearly sent him over the edge.    

He rolled her onto her back and pushed into her as deep as he could, finesse and restraint abandoned in a frantic fucking while she licked his neck and panted encouragement. There were no lingering looks or tender words when his climax hit him. Instead he swore like a sailor as Phryne laughed in delight, following him in orgasm a second time.

He had enough presence of mind to avoid crushing her, collapsing next to her. He lay on his side, deliriously happy.

“Jack—darling—shove over a bit,” Phryne said breathlessly.

“What? Oh,” he said, rolling further onto his side as she freed her arm from under him. She turned to face him, but his arm lay awkwardly between them at an angle. “Sorry, let me just—“ Jack muttered, pulling his arm away and rolling onto his stomach. Phryne flopped back and sighed.

“Christ, I needed that.”

Jack groaned in reply. He lay with his face pressed into the pillows. Phryne gave him a sultry smile. “I have always appreciated your attention to detail, Jack.”

“Likewise, Miss Fisher.”  

They lay quietly a few moments, catching their breath. He stroked her stomach with his hand and she sighed happily.

“Now,” Phryne smiled, pushing his shoulder to direct him lower down her body. She spread her legs wide. “Let’s try that again, shall we?”

  
Jack grinned. Soon it was Phryne who was shouting obscenities.

*****

He woke up some time in the deep of the night, unsure where he was or what had roused him. It was dark, and cool, and he could hear rain falling steadily. His left arm was numb, and there was a warm weight pressing on his chest. He turned his head and saw Phryne’s face next to his own. Her lipstick had long since been kissed away; her eye makeup was smudged. She was sprawled across him, and drooling on his shoulder ever so slightly.

Perhaps the most surprising aspect of this surprising night was the discovery that Phryne Fisher liked to cuddle. He’d been fully prepared to take himself off to the sofa, afterwards, if she wanted it; only to be stunned when she’d wrapped herself around him and dropped off immediately. He smiled, overcome with affection. Some part of him had worried that, once they had satisfied their mutual lust, the feelings growing between them would dissipate. He knew now that his heart was gone for good. He suspected hers was too.

He shifted, adjusting his body so her head lay on the pillow and not on him. He flexed his hand as his arm began to prick with pins and needles.

Phryne stirred.” Mm? Ja..?” She inhaled deeply and her eyes fluttered open slightly. ”Wha’s wrong?” she murmured.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

She frowned as his body weight moved. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t.”

He brushed his hand against her face, and stroked her hair, just looking at her. “I love you Phryne.”

She smiled sleepily. “Me too.” Her fingers touched his mouth briefly before dropping back down to his chest.

She was out cold, as if she’d never woken; he doubted she would remember the conversation. He smiled to himself. No matter. He’d tell her again in the morning.

 

 


End file.
